It passed, and he saw her again--his vision, the goddess of his dream, still as the rock behind her, yet splendidly alive.

He bent himself again to his work.

Would that wave never come to veil her in sparkling raiment of foam?
Ah! At last! The peace of the pool was shattered.

A shining wave, curved, green, transparent, gleamed round the corner, ran, swift as a flame, along the rock, and broke with a thunderous roar in a torrent of snow-white surf.

In a moment the pool was a seething tumult of water, and in that moment Knight saw his goddess as the artist in him had yearned to see her, her beauty half-veiled and half-revealed in a shimmering robe of foam.
The vision vanished.